


Just Wanna Know You Better

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, coffee au??, kind of???, the noncon refers to a few noncon kisses and some mild physical assault, there's no graphic rape or assault though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin's ruled out being in relationships, sticking to one-night stands and waking up alone. He's convinced that that's how he likes it. Then some curly-haired ass with an Adventure Time sweatshirt comes along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Wanna Know You Better

**Author's Note:**

> this was requested to be put on ao3, so here it is c: i've been working on this for a long time and i'm actually pretty proud of it, so i hope you all like it. thanks for reading!

Gavin has to resist the urge to groan when he wakes up and light hits him square in the eye and his head pounds. He puts his hands over his eyes for a few minutes before declaring it safe and dropping them. Then he looks around and realizes that the pink, flowered bed sheets he’s lying on are most definitely _not_ his.

He sits up, and his head hurts, and there’s an unfamiliar brunette lying naked next to him. He remembers her, actually- her name started with a “k” and she made weird meowing noises. She was hot, though, and she didn’t seem too emotionally attached. Better for her, in the long run.

He stands up and sways, leaning against the nightstand. Okay.  He might be a little drunk still. But he’s able to find all of his clothing and slip each piece on quietly. It takes him a while to locate his right shoe, but he eventually pulls it out from under a sleeping terrier lying on a chair in the corner of the room. So “k” girl has a dog, then.

Gavin helps himself to some Advil in the kitchen and lets himself out onto the street, running a hand through his hair tiredly when he realizes that he has no clue where he is. He recognizes a street name, though- Washington- and is sober enough to know that his apartment is only about a block away.

The first thing he does when he gets home is flop down face first on the couch. He’s still tired as shit and he just wants to sleep this hangover off, but he has to go to work later.

His roommate Geoff is playing some zombie game on the Xbox while curled into a ball in an armchair, and he barely glances up when Gavin comes in.

“How was the sex,” he asks casually, and Gavin turns around, lying flat on his back.

“Nice,” he grins, “but she made cat noises.”

Geoff snorts, not taking his eyes off of the TV screen. “A keeper, that one is.”

“For sure,” Gavin replies, glancing up at the screen for a moment before asking, “Where’s Griffon?”

“At the studio,” Geoff says simply, then drops his controller in frustration when he dies and the screen flashes “ _Mission failed_.”

Gavin laughs. “Aw, bad luck.”

“Shut up,” Geoff bites, standing up from the chair. He flicks Gavin on the forehead, reminding him, “You need to take a shower and eat something, dipshit. You’re not rolling into work like that.”

The British man whines, rolling back over onto his stomach. “I don’t wanna,” he mumbles into the couch.

He can practically _feel_ Geoff rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, if you don’t get paid you don’t get to buy condoms and that means no sex. Get the fuck up.”

Gavin groans but gets up from the couch and slouches to the shower.

* * *

Work is boring as balls.

It’s two-thirty on a Tuesday afternoon in a bloody coffee shop. The place has its regulars, but even those sad sacks are gone. _Nobody’s_ there.

So, naturally, Geoff and Gavin are bored out of their minds.

Geoff’s leaning against the counter, going through Twitter. The younger man’s currently seated on said counter, swishing his legs back and forth and sipping a cappuccino. When Geoff glares at him, he raises his eyebrows.

“It’s not like anyone else was gonna drink it,” he says, gesturing to the empty shop.

Geoff is just about to retort when Gavin spots two people walking into the shop. “Ooh, incoming,” he says, hopping off the counter.

It’s a woman and a man, both redheads. Well, the girl has obviously dyed hair, whereas the man has a more natural auburn-brown. He’s really cute, with freckles dotting his cheeks and an Adventure Time sweatshirt on, and Gavin can’t help wondering if that girl’s his significant other. Because if she’s not, he’d love to get in the sack with him.

“Bet you a tenner he’s a bottom,” Gavin whispers to Geoff.

“Dammit, Gavin-“ Geoff rubs his face, looking exasperated. “He _just_ walked in.”

“So?” Gavin says, and wiggles his eyebrows before going to serve the two.

“What can I get you guys?” he asks, a grin on his face, all charm, all for the guy’s benefit. He isn’t usually this nice.

“A latte for me and a mocha for her,” the guy says briskly, and Gavin snorts. What’s the rush? It’s not like he has anywhere to be on a Tuesday afternoon.

“That’ll be eight dollars and fifty-six cents,” Gavin smiles, and the guy hands him a ten before slipping his arm around the redhead’s waist. So they are together. Threesome, then? The girl’s pretty damn attractive, too.

He counts back the change and tells the man that his order will be right out. The couple sits down at one of the secluded tables in the back, and Gavin goes to stand next to Geoff, sighing.

“Too bad he’s taken,” Geoff says, no sympathy in his voice at all. “Maybe he’s a good tipper.”

Gavin smirks. “I haven’t given up yet.”

And, lo and behold, something is going down at the corner table. Geoff straightens up, and both men watch the scene unfold like a soap opera.

The girl is crying and the guy just looks angry and confused. Gavin only catches little snippets, but that seems to be enough.

“I’m so sorry, Michael, I just-“

“Why the _fuck_ -“

“It’s not-“

“Did I do something-?”

“I just can’t-“

Both employees are watching intently, but when the girl drops something on the table and leaves, tears running down her face and a hand over her mouth, they pretend not to have just been glaring at the couple.

The guy- Michael- doesn’t seem to notice anyway, as he’s slumped in his seat, a numb expression on his face.

“Do I smell desperate rebound sex?” Gavin says, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

“God _dammit_ ,” Geoff sighs. “You know being the rebound is a bad thing, right?”

The younger man shrugs. “I quite enjoy it. I mean, obviously I’m never gonna call them back, but they won’t either because they’re ashamed. It’s perfect.”

“You’re such a slut.” Geoff rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. Gavin’s not offended. He takes the word as a compliment.

“Kay, I’m going in,” he says, bringing the man’s coffee order over. He doesn’t bother with the ex’s, seeing as she’s left.

He sets it down on the table and smiles, but the guy doesn’t seem to realize anything’s happened. Gavin clears his throat and Michael looks up.

“Oh- uh, thanks,” he mumbles awkwardly, sliding the coffee closer to himself and stirring it with a spoon.

“You okay over here?” Gavin asks good-naturedly, smiling.

“Sure. Fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he prods.

“Look, I’m sure you mean well or whatever, but this is the _last fucking thing_ I want to talk about right now. Okay?” Michael snaps, looking murderous.

Gavin’s a little taken aback, but he nods. Then he notices the shiny gold ring sitting on the table and decides to back off. He walks back behind the counter, standing next to Geoff and gazing across the shop at Michael, eyebrows furrowed.

“He does not seem to be in the mood for sex,” Gavin comments, and Geoff snorts.

“No, shit,” he says, smacking the younger man on the back of the head. “He just got dumped, you dumbass.”

“And?” Gavin says, rubbing his head. Geoff hits _hard_.

“Not everybody can be an emotionally stunted drifter like you, Gavin.”

Gavin just shrugs. The poor bloke does look pretty sad.

He leaves without speaking again or tipping, which would normally make Gavin mad, but this time, it doesn’t.

The next few days pass slowly, obnoxiously, and without another visit from Michael. Gavin has no clue why he misses the almost complete stranger, but he does, and it’s confusing. He never misses anyone; that’s the point of being unattached. But there’s something different about Michael, something he can’t quite put his finger on.

On Friday, he has to take the late shift (from ten at night to five in the morning) with Ray because Ryan, the one who usually has it, is sick. He hasn’t taken this late of a shift in a long time, so he’s already had about four Redbulls by the time three o’clock rolls around.

Ray, the robot that he is, is never tired. Not even when it’s pitch black outside and Gavin feels so exhausted he could faint. He’d worked from eight to two, gone home, slept for a few hours, ate, and come back to work. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is sleep. So he doesn’t understand how Ray is calmly wiping down the counters for a third time, whistling softly, not a hint of tiredness in his face.

“How do you stay so _awake_?” Gavin asks, muttering “bloody cyborg” under his breath.

Ray shrugs. “Used to it, I guess. And I figured you’d be, too, since you’re always out doing who-knows-what at three in the morning.”

“Not _working_ ,” he groans in response, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Ray opens his mouth but doesn’t get a chance to reply, as that moment, someone shuffles through the door of the shop. Someone familiar. Someone wearing an Adventure Time sweatshirt.

Gavin straightens immediately, all the exhaustion leaving him in a rush. “I’ll take this one,” he says, patting Ray’s shoulder absentmindedly.

“You okay there, buddy?” Ray asks. Gavin’s not looking at him, but he can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, uh, fine,” he replies, not taking his eyes off Michael. “Completely top.”

He can feel Ray’s gaze on him without looking, but he ignores it.

The auburn-haired man approaches the counter, staring at the menu above their heads blankly. Gavin saunters up, leaning his elbows on the counter and smiling. When Michael doesn’t so much as blink for a minute, Gavin stands up, snapping in front of his face a few times.

Michael starts, looking at Gavin for the first time. “Sorry,” he mumbles, sighing.

“Why are you even here?” Gavin asks, getting slightly worried for the tired-looking man. “It’s after three.”

Michael snaps out of his exhaustion almost immediately, looking annoyed. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s because my fiancée dumped me and I can’t sleep? Get me a fucking large black coffee, asshole.”

Gavin blinks, then smiles a little bit. “Sure. That’ll be three-fifty.”

The other man is apparently just awake enough to give him correct change. Gavin tells him his order will be right out cheerily and Michael grunts, going to sit down in a closer table, different than last time.

He can feel Ray’s gaze boring a hole in the back of his head and he sighs, turning around. Sure enough, Ray has his arms crossed and looks a mix of suspicious, amused, and deathly curious.

“Why are you flirting?” He asks, smirking.

“I’m not!” Gavin defends weakly, but upon seeing Ray’s dubious expression, he drops the act. “Okay, I am. He’s just- I don’t know.”

Gavin goes to make Michael’s coffee and Ray follows him.

“Didn’t I just hear him say he got _dumped_ , though _?_ And by his _fiancée?_ ”

“Yeah, and he’s also straight. I know, I have excellent taste in dudes.” Gavin puffs out a breath while pouring the black coffee into a mug.

“You might want to back off for a while before pouncing on the poor guy,” the younger man says. “Just a suggestion.”

“I’m just being nice!” Gavin exclaims defensively, walking out from behind the counter before Ray can argue. He sets the coffee down in front of Michael, smiling.

“So you’re not doing too well, huh?” he asks.

Michael gives him a death glare. “Didn’t want to talk about it last time, don’t want to talk about it now. Let me drink my goddamn coffee in peace.”

Gavin raises his hands up in defense. “Just trying to be friendly. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

He smiles and heads back behind the counter, smiling even bigger when he hears Michael mutter, “Annoying little prick.”

He watches the other man from his spot perched on the counter, and doesn’t notice Ray glaring at him until he’s nudged in the thigh forcefully.

“Do you have a big gay crush on this guy?”

Gavin snorts. “You know me, Ray. No attachments.”

Ray looks dubious. “Yeah, okay. Just be careful, Vav. We all remember what happened last time you-“

“Yeah, I know,” Gavin interrupts, rubbing a hand over his hand tiredly. He needs another Red Bull. “And it’d be great if you didn’t bring it up again.”

The younger man mumbles assent, but still looks concerned as he leans back against the counter Gavin’s sitting on.

Eventually, after a lot of sipping coffee and a lot more staring blankly at the cup, Michael brings his dirty dishes back with a weak smile. Ray’s gone to the bathroom, so they’re all alone for now.

Gavin grins even though he’s exhausted and wishes Michael a good night despite his circumstances. The other man looks like he’s about to leave but stays, looking contemplative.

He’s just about to ask what Michael’s thinking about when he says, suddenly, “What happened last time?”

Gavin’s taken aback, blinking a few times before he can even think about answering. “You heard that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael says, shaking his head and smiling. “See you around.”

He knocks his knuckles against the counter and walks out of the shop, leaving a confused Gavin to wonder what the hell just happened.

* * *

It’s Saturday night, and Gavin needs to get laid, _bad_.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about Michael, not once. The cute, freckled face with the permanently annoyed expression seems to be tattooed onto his brain, because he can’t get rid of it.

Gavin doesn’t get attached. That’s the bloody point. He has meaningless sex with pretty strangers because it’s fun and it’s a release and it’s a distraction. He doesn’t get crushes. _He doesn’t do this._

So here he is, sitting at a bar at midnight, downing his third drink and relishing the buzz, because maybe some good sex will knock the stupid out of his brain.

Gavin catches sight of a guy with curly auburn hair and goes to sit next to him, slightly disappointed when he has blue eyes instead of brown but liking him all the same. The guy smiles at him and he smiles back, stirring a new drink, asking if he wants to get out of here. And he does.

They get back to Gavin’s apartment, and everyone’s out, luckily. They know well enough to leave the place empty on weekend nights.

Clothes are shed as they kiss-walk into Gavin’s bedroom, not quite making it to the bed but kissing roughly and passionately against the door. He hasn’t had a rough one in a while; this should be fun.

“What’s your name,” Gavin breathes into the stranger’s neck as he trails down, leaving fast, sloppy kisses all the way.

“A-Aaron,” the other man stumbles out, “And you?”

“Gavin,” he says, smiling into Aaron’s belly button before giving it a lick. He gets the button and zipper down with his teeth, relishing the noises the other man is making. Gavin slides down the jeans and stands back up to kiss Aaron on the mouth, running his tongue along his teeth and grinning when he shudders.

They make it to the bed after a few more minutes of making out, Aaron doing more of the work this time. He’s lying under Gavin but reaches up to kiss his neck and his ear and his jaw, and Gavin closes his eyes and moans out something, utterly confused when the contact is broken and he’s shoved off, none too gently.

“ _Michael_?” Aaron says incredulously, and Gavin’s throat closes up. Fuck.

“Uh, what?” he asks. He’s trying to save his skin, but he knows what he did.

Aaron shakes his head, sliding off the bed to grab his pants. “Who’s _Michael_? Your boyfriend?”

“Listen, I’m-“

“Forget it, asshole,” the other man says angrily. “Just let me grab my shit and then I’ll be out of your life. Tell Michael I said hi.”

Aaron stalks out of the room, and after a minute, Gavin hears the front door slam. He lays back down on the bed, running a hand over his face. What the fuck is wrong with him? He can’t even have one night stands anymore without calling out the name of a guy he _barely knows_ in bed.

His buzz and his horniness have both been completely ruined, and it’s only twelve forty at night. After a few minutes of kicking himself, he decides that he needs coffee, so he puts his clothes back on and walks to the shop.

It’s Ray and Ryan at the counter, and they both look up when he comes in.

“Evening, lads,” Gavin says, trying to look happy but most likely failing. He tries to open the counter door to go through and pour himself some straight black coffee (he just needs a perk right now), but he finds himself blocked by the two men on the other side.

“Gavin,” Ryan says carefully, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to be balls deep in some stranger by now?” Ray says with a little less tact, and Gavin rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t work out,” he sighs, nudging his friends out of the way so he can get to the coffeepot. He grabs a mug from the shelf and pours the coffee in, flinching when it’s hotter than he expected.

There’s a surprised silence, and Gavin exhales before turning around, coffee in hand. “What,” he says, exasperated already.

“Well… since when does it not ‘work out’ for you?” Ryan asks, crossing his arms.

Gavin shrugs, taking a small sip of coffee, pulling a face when he burns his tongue. “It happens.”

“No, but-“ Ray walks forward, mimicking Ryan’s pose, “What exactly did you do?”

The British man furrows his eyebrows, offended. “Why do you automatically assume it’s something _I_ did?”

Just then, a familiar auburn-haired guy walks through the door, and Gavin almost drops his mug. “Jesus _Christ_ , now? Of all times?”

Ray and Ryan both glance at Michael and back to Gavin, bewildered. “What do you mean, ‘now’? What the fuck happened?” Ray asks urgently.

Gavin shakes his head, sipping his coffee broodily.

His favorite customer approaches the counter, looking over at him. “You gonna come take my order, or what?” he asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Gavin doesn’t feel like playing nice today. He’s suddenly in a terrible mood, and for some reason, this guy he _barely bloody knows_ is just making it worse. Actually, he knows the reason. He called his fucking name out during sex. Well. Foreplay.

So he settles on not being friendly. “I’m not working.”

Michael looks a little annoyed by Gavin’s bluntness. “Okay, so are one of you working, then?” he asks, gesturing to Ray and Ryan.

Ryan hurries over, looking apologetic. “Yeah, sorry. What can I get you?”

He takes the order, and Michael goes to sit in the same table as the last time he was in the shop. He keeps glancing over at Gavin with a strange look on his face, and as annoyed as Gavin is, it’s making him feel things he shouldn’t be feeling.

Suddenly he feels a mug being shoved in his hands and he looks up quickly, surprised.

Ryan’s standing right in front of him with a slightly menacing expression on his face. “You do it.”

“I’m not even working!” Gavin protests, sneaking a fast glance over at Michael’s table. He’s staring at his lap, playing with his hands absently, and he looks so bloody _sad_ that Gavin finds himself feeling sorry for him, against his better judgment.

Ryan looks even scarier now. “Do. It.”

And because Gavin’s a little terrified of his friend when he’s serious, he switches out his mug for Michael’s and steps out in front of the counter. He walks over and dumps the mug down on the counter, turning around swiftly to head back so he can just drink his damn coffee, but Michael stops him.

“Wait- Gavin,” he says, and that makes him stop. The guy’s never called him by his name before.

He turns around and sighs. “Yeah?”

“What’s up with the giant stick in your ass tonight?” he asks, taking a small drink of coffee.

Gavin blinks. “I don’t- what?”

“You’re acting like an asshole, and I wanna know why.”

“Why?” Gavin asks, slightly angrily. “Why do you _care_?”

Michael shrugs. “You were annoyingly friendly before, and now you’re not. I’m just curious as to why.”

“None of your business,” he huffs, stalking back behind the counter and grabbing his coffee. Ryan and Ray look expectantly at him while he chugs it, but he’s not giving up anything.

“So?” Ray asks, eyebrows raised.

Gavin ignores him, finishing off his coffee and leaving it in the sink for the other men to deal with. “I gotta go, lads. See you later.”

He leaves quickly, not caring that Ray and Ryan are still curious as hell or that Michael is still wondering what’s wrong with him tonight. He’s suddenly determined to get his mind off the near- stranger, and he’s not going to stop until he finds someone to distract him.

Gavin gets too drunk and too sloppy but still has that magic English accent and still manages to pick someone up. He doesn’t remember the name but the guy is blond, and he fucks him in the bathroom of a club he can’t recall walking into.

And when he wakes up the next day (in his own bed, somehow) with a massive hangover, a cloud of self-hatred hanging over his head, and a crick in his neck, he still, _still_ has that stupid auburn-haired asshole on his mind. So he heads to the kitchen, groaning when Geoff hollers out a loud greeting and scowling when he laughs.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table nursing a mug of what Gavin assumes is coffee, but seeing as it’s Geoff, it’s probably Irish coffee. He’s still in his pajamas, but it’s only around eleven, and it’s a Sunday, so Gavin’s not one to judge.

“Rough night, eh?” Geoff asks after Gavin shuffles in holding his head, and he hands him a cup of coffee.

The younger man just grunts, taking a few large sips of his drink. “You could say that.”

“You look like you got fucking _hammered_. Do you even remember what happened?”

Gavin falls silent for a minute, staring at his mug. He only responds after Geoff kicks him in the leg. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I remember.”

He can tell Geoff knows something’s wrong, but he silently wills him not to push it. He’s not in the sharing and caring mood at the moment. And thankfully, his friend doesn’t prod him further.

“So,” Geoff begins, changing the subject, “Any plans for today?”

“Well, I was gonna-“

“Nothing? Good, ‘cause I want you to come to this thing with me later.”

Gavin sighs, setting down his coffee to rummage through the cabinets for some painkillers. “Thing?”

“Party.”

He sighs even deeper. “Geoff, I’m already hungover. Do you really want me at a party?” He finds a bottle of Advil after a minute of searching and downs two pills with his coffee.

It’s Geoff’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’ll be fine, you big baby.”

He gets up, slapping Gavin on the shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. The younger man rolls his eyes for the thousandth time this morning and leaves to go get dressed.

The party, it turns out, is one of Griffon’s art things, and it actually isn’t too bad. Gavin likes Griffon’s friends; they’re smart and they like good conversation.

He’s in the middle of talking to a particularly alternative-looking girl (half-shaved head, nose piercings, tattooed wings reaching from the center of her back to the tips of her shoulders) with plans to take her home if she’s so inclined when he sees a familiar face across the room.

“Buggering _shit_ ,” he hisses, ducking behind a pillar and almost spilling his drink in the process.

The girl raises an eyebrow, following his line of sight and rolling her eyes when she finds an auburn-haired man wearing a beanie and an Adventure Time sweatshirt.

“Usually a girl wants to know if you’re already invested in someone else before she starts talking to you,” she says, but she doesn’t walk away yet.

Gavin glances back for the first time since he spotted Michael and frowns. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I didn’t say he was,” she smirks, and Gavin feels himself flush. “Word to the wise- be honest with yourself. Would you be happier with him than alone?”

Gavin lets out a breath in a soft _huff_ , staring through the girl into the distance, not quite knowing what to think.

“I’ll leave you with that, then,” she says, the corner of her mouth quirking up a little. “I’d say call me, but, well.”

It takes Gavin a good fifteen minutes after the girl leaves to work up the courage to talk to Michael. He wants to do this right.

“Uh,” he says after approaching the shorter man. _Nailed it._

Michael turns, his eyebrows instantly popping up, and Gavin can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“Hey,” Gavin says.

“Hey, yourself.”

“So… what’re you doing here?”

Michael’s expression doesn’t change. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I live with the artist.”

“Your girlfriend?” The shorter man says, a hint of venom in his voice.

Gavin laugh-snorts. “No, she’s married to my other roommate.”

“Oh.” Michael continues looking at the painting he’d been engrossed in before. Gavin’s about to ask him again why he’s here, but then he speaks. “It’s stupid, I just- I thought my ex was gonna be here.”

Gavin’s heart drops, and Michael keeps talking. “I’m not a fucking stalker, or anything, and I know we’re never getting back together, believe me. That ship has sailed. But I miss her, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Gavin replies softly.

They stand there a few minutes in silence until Gavin speaks up.

“You wanna get a drink with me? Not like- I don’t know. As friends.”

“We’re not friends.”

“Having a drink with a stranger can be fun, too,” he suggests, waiting expectantly.

Michael thinks for a second. “You’re buying.”

“Sure thing.”

And then they’re out of there, down to a bar Gavin knows (because he knows every bar and club and establishment that serves alcohol in the city) that’s only a block or two from the gallery.

They both get beers and sit in a booth near the back of the place. Neither of them quite know what to say at first, as they barely know each other.

Gavin starts. “I never did get to tell you what happened the last time.”

Michael furrows his eyebrows in confusion, and Gavin lets himself think about how goddamn cute that is for only a few seconds before he explains. “Last time I had serious feelings for someone.”

The other man nods then, and Gavin begins the story.

“It was, Christ, five years ago now? I was dating this guy, and mind you, this was back before I was confident in myself. This was my first boyfriend, _ever_ , and after a long string of girlfriends, too. I was scared shitless and I didn’t really know what my sexuality was and it was a big mess. But I did know that I was in love, and that he _mattered_ to me, and I mattered to him. It felt good to matter.”

Gavin takes a sip of his beer, and he can feel Michael looking at him, and his face is starting to get hot, but he tries to ignore it.

“And I guess he took advantage of the fact that I was scared shitless and didn’t know what I was bloody doing, because he started sleeping around. Girls, mainly, which really fucked with my head, because I didn’t feel like I was good enough anymore, yeah? That I was turning him off guys forever or something, that it was my fault.”

“Eventually, I worked up the courage to stand up to him, and he, uh…” Gavin laughs bitterly. “He hit me. Said all this shit to me, that I was worthless and did I really expect him to be faithful to me when I was such a piece of shit. So that was… yeah. That was it.”

Michael lets out a big breath. “Shit, dude.”

“Yeah. So I guess after that I just realized how much easier it was not to be attached, that if I just had meaningless sex, I wouldn’t put myself in that position again. And it worked, and it was all tippy toppers and I was happy. Until you.”

“Me?” Michael says, incredulously. “You don’t even _know_ me.”

“Exactly!” Gavin replies, exasperated. “I don’t know you! And that’s what makes it so bloody _stupid_ , the fact that I think about you all the time, that I actually look forward to work now because you’re usually there, that I want a real relationship for the first time in _five whole years_ because of you. You. Who I don’t even know.”

The other man takes a drink from his bottle and looks down. “You think about me?”

“Yeah. It’s bloody annoying, really.”

“Huh,” Michael responds. “I think I, uh. I think I need some time with this.”

Gavin’s heart sinks again. “Right, your fiancée. Christ, I didn’t even- you’re probably not even attracted to guys, are you?”

Michael shrugs. “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything, but you- you’re complicated.”

“Complicated good or complicated bad?” Gavin asks, still allowing himself a little hope.

“Just complicated,” Michael says, shaking his head. Then he slides out of the booth without looking at Gavin again.

“Thanks for the drink,” he says, and then he’s gone.

After he leaves, Gavin’s mood slips from relatively happy to hollow and numb. He really shouldn’t let Michael make him feel like this, but he can’t help it. He always falls for the ones who’d rather be with a girl than him, doesn’t he?

He knows the only way to fix this is to get really wasted and find someone to fuck, but for some reason, even the thought of that is making him nauseous at the moment.

Gavin leaves the bar instead, only vaguely noticing that it’s pouring outside. He could call Geoff and ask for a ride, but he needs to walk right now.

After about thirty seconds outside he’s soaked, and it’s late and he’s cold and wet and miserable, but he trudges home anyway. It feels like one moment he’s at the bar and the next he’s home, snapping back to reality like waking up from a daydream.

Except what happened wasn’t a dream. It was real. Michael’s still in love with his ex, and he doesn’t want to be with him. Stupid, stupid, _stupid._ Why did he think this perfect stranger liked him back just because he was _kind_ to him a few times? Bloody idiot, that’s what he is.

So when Gavin shuffles inside, drenched in water and somber and feeling ready to break into a thousand pieces and Geoff puts a concerned hand on his shoulder and asks what’s wrong, he snaps, starting to yell.

“ _Everything_ , Geoff! Everything’s wrong, all of it, and I can’t- what am I supposed to _do_ -“ His voice breaks on the word and for the first time since his first love gave him his first black eye, he feels tears spring from the corners of his eyes. And soon enough, five years worth of pent-up problems and shitty self-worth and loathing and blaming spill out of him in the form of tears, falling down his face like waterfalls, and he can’t stop them no matter how hard he tries.

Geoff, the poor man, has never seen Gavin cry, and thus doesn’t know what in the hell to do. He settles for going “holy shit” and wrapping his arms around his sobbing friend, sliding them both down to the floor.

“What the fuck happened, Gav?” he asks after a few minutes of soothing and back rubbing.

Gavin hesitates, leaning back and wiping his face. “I… I opened up to Michael about where all my shitty problems come from, forgetting that his fiancée just bloody dumped him and he’s most likely still in love with her. So basically, I’m fucked.”

Geoff whistles. “That’s one hell of a situation you got yourself in there, buddy.”

“Yeah.” Gavin wipes his eyes with his shirt sleeve, still sniffling pathetically.

“It’s shitty, believe me, but all you can really do right now is wait. He could come around, or he could not. You just gotta wait and see what he does before you start getting all heartbroken on me, alright?” Geoff says, smiling kindly.

Gavin makes a miniscule nodding motion with his head, starting to get pretty damn embarrassed that he bawled into his friend’s shirt over a guy.

“And if he says he doesn’t wanna be with you, I’ll be waiting with some shitty movie and a pint of Häagen-Dazs, okay? You don’t have to go this alone, Gav.”

Gavin nods again, even managing a small smile.

“You’re not escaping without a hug, you know,” Geoff says, holding out his arms, and when Gavin doesn’t move, he raises his voice. “Hug me, asshole, I’m your fucking elder.”

The younger man laughs and hugs Geoff, muttering into the other man’s shoulder, “This is pretty gay, Ramsey.”

“You’re pretty gay,” Geoff replies.

“Your mom’s pretty gay,” Gavin laughs.

“That was crossing the line,” Geoff says, a grin on his face as he pulls back. “You gonna be okay, Gav?”

Gavin nods, though he doesn’t quite believe it himself. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

* * *

 

Michael hasn’t come to the shop in two weeks.

Gavin knows this because all he’s been doing is working, going home to eat and sleep, and then waking up and going to work again. He’s been saying it’s for the extra cash, but he doesn’t think anybody believes him. They’ve all caught on it’s about Michael in some way, and that he needs a distraction so he doesn’t think too much.

One night, Gavin’s working the late shift with Ray. Gavin had been able to tell that ever since Ray got arrived at ten o’clock he’d been itching to go home and play some new release he’d just gotten, so when the clock was nearing five and he looked like he was about to have a seizure, Gavin let him go home. He ensured the younger man that he could take care of it himself, as there were very little people in the shop at four forty-five anyway.

So now Gavin’s wiping down the tables for a third time, waiting for the clock to hit five so Jack and Caleb can take over for him. He’s just about to go back to playing Candy Crush on his phone when he hears the bell on the door jingle.

“Hey, Gavvy,” a deep voice says, and the only person who ever called him that- _no-_

He turns and sure enough, it’s his ex-boyfriend. The first guy he fell in love with. The first guy he was ever even _with_.

“Carter,” Gavin says, trying and failing to keep the nervousness out of his voice. “What do you want.”

The other man smiles, walking towards Gavin and forcing him to be backed against the wall. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Us, actually.”

Gavin tries to say so many things- _What us? There hasn’t been an us for five bloody years. What the fuck do you want from me?_ \- but all of them get stuck in his throat.

Carter’s really close now, far, _far_ too close for comfort, and everything’s coming back to him. The dates, the video games and movies and staying up all night talking and making ramen at three am and getting an apartment together and birthdays and holidays and thinking _I really love this guy_. Then the other shit starting. The lipstick. The perfume. The coming home late with no explanation, getting snappy when questioned about it. Asking Gavin, “Don’t you trust me?” The confrontation, the anger, the giant bruise around his eye. Moving everything out of the apartment. Moving on. Seeing him on Facebook with other girls and wishing he’d just fall down a hole and die, meanwhile promising himself to never be in a serious relationship again.

All of it rushes back into his head and Carter’s right there, smiling and talking soft, saying, “Come on, we could be happy again. Don’t you want that, Gavvy? Don’t you want to be happy? To be with me?”

“No-“ Gavin says, regaining control over himself and starting to struggle for the first time, which of course only makes Carter’s grip tighten around his arms.

“Don’t you remember how happy we were together? All the good times we had?” He says forcefully, gripping Gavin so hard it hurts, and he can start to feel bruises forming there.

“Stop!” He yells, trying to rip himself from the other man’s arms, but to no avail. Then his worst nightmare comes to reality in the form of Carter smashing their lips together, no softness or romance to it at all, just anger and control. His hand is suddenly on Gavin’s head, not letting him pull away, and his body is trapping him against the wall. He can’t move. He can’t get away.

He struggles as much as he can, but Carter’s stronger than him and he’s not able to pull away as the other man kisses him again, breathing into his mouth, “Mmm, isn’t this fun? Remember this?”

“Get _off_ of me!” Gavin shouts, turning his body forcefully to the left in order to try and throw Carter off. The taller man stumbles, and his face turns malicious. Before Gavin knows it, his ex’s fist has connected with his face and it’s burning and he smells blood, and he wants to run but Carter’s blocking his only exit, and he’s about to swing again when-

Suddenly Carter’s on the floor, trapped by an unknown mass with curly hair and an Adventure Time sweatshirt, and Gavin almost gasps because is that bloody _Michael_?

His question is answered when he hears a “you fucking sack of _shit_!” and then a shout of pain. Gavin rushes over to see Michael punching Carter in the face over and over, and he guesses that his nose is broken because that’s a lot of blood coming from his nostrils.

“Michael-“ he says, gripping the man’s shoulder until he stops. “That’s enough.”

“You kidding me?” Michael says incredulously. “Gavin, he fucking-“

“I know.” Gavin looks down at his ex, who in the moment has his eyes closed in pain. “But it’s okay. I’m fine, I just have to…“

He trails off, realizing out of nowhere that he feels lightheaded and his legs don’t feel like they can hold him up anymore and he’s breathing kind of fast and, fuck, he might be in shock a little bit.

He stumbles over to a chair and collapses into it, putting his hands in his hair and trying to take deep breaths to steady himself.

“Gavin?” Michael asks, still holding Carter down. “You alright?”

“I will be,” Gavin replies, breathing out shakily. “Let me call 911, I don’t know how else to deal with him.”

Carter groans from his position on the floor, and Michael looks to him, growing angry again.

“Shut up,” he spits, and punches Carter, hard, effectively knocking him out.

Gavin spends a few minutes on the phone explaining to the 911 operator what the situation is, and when he gets off, Michael’s gotten up and walked over, looking intently at the blossoming bruises on Gavin’s cheek and arms and furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

“I’m fine, really,” he says, but Michael insists on grabbing a napkin and dabbing at the blood on his face, wearing a worried impression the whole time he does so.

“You saved me,” Gavin says after a moment. “I don’t know what he would’ve…“

He looks down, trying not to picture how that would’ve turned out for him. He’d be in a whole other place right now.

“Hey,” Michael says softly, touching Gavin’s shoulder so lightly he can barely feel it. “It’s fine. I just wish I would’ve gotten here earlier. _God,_ what a fucking asshole.”

Gavin nods, smiling a little. “Agreed.”

After the police arrive and take both of their statements and Carter’s been loaded into an ambulance because it turns out that yes, Michael did break the bastard’s nose, they decide that it was justified defense on Michael’s part. They also ask Gavin if he wants to press charges, but he says that no, a restraining order will be perfectly fine, thanks.

Jack and Caleb had shown up to their shift in the middle of all of this chaos and seen the police cars and had had lots and lots of questions, but Gavin had just ensured them that it was a mess but he was okay and that it was being taken care of. He calls Geoff and the other man (after threatening to remove all of Carter’s internal organs and then throw him off a cliff) agrees that the shop should be closed for today, if not another few days, too.

After everything is over, the police cleared out and the paperwork filed and the shop closed down, it’s around six thirty, and Gavin should be tired but he doesn’t feel even a little bit sleepy. So Michael and him start walking together slowly and without care, silent up until they reach Gavin’s street.

“So did you wonder at all why I came in the first place?” Michael asks.

“I guess I didn’t have much time to,” Gavin replies, offering a small smile.

“Well, I came because I was thinking a lot, not sleeping because I was staying up fucking thinking about you, and it just got exhausting, wasting so much time thinking about you alone instead of thinking about you with _you_. And after a while I realized that I hadn’t even thought about my ex in two weeks. So, yeah. I came to tell you that.”

Gavin tries to keep the smile from leaking into his expression but doesn’t quite manage. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Michael replies, grinning back. “So, you, uh… you wanna get coffee sometime?”

The younger man bursts out laughing, almost doubling over as he clutches his stomach, feeling pained from laughing too hard. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“Fucking _months_ , dude, you don’t even know,” Michael laughs.

For the rest of the way on the walk to Gavin’s house that early morning, the two hold hands, and Gavin feels, for the first time in a long time, that it’s okay to put his faith in something. Because this time, he knows it’ll last.


End file.
